


Adapting

by ALMartin1011



Series: Completely random and unrelated MCU drabbles & shorts [6]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Bucky being a grumpy old man, Bucky trying to adapt, First Kiss, M/M, Steve being way too excited about the 21st century, Steve trying to be helpful, first time admission of feelings, slightly angsty but with a happy ending, sorry i suck at tags, two idiots in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-10
Updated: 2020-05-10
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:14:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24114124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ALMartin1011/pseuds/ALMartin1011
Summary: Bucky tries adapting to the 21st century but finds the challenge too much for him. He loves Steve, but he can’t imagine ever fitting in to the modern world and it leads him to a drastic solution.Content Warning: A very sad Bucky. Very brief mention of period-typical homophobia. Overall this one is a little angsty but it has a happy ending, promise.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Series: Completely random and unrelated MCU drabbles & shorts [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1660210
Comments: 3
Kudos: 46





	Adapting

**Author's Note:**

> Hello lovelies, it’s been a while! I’ve been trying to get back into the groove of writing over the past few weeks and that posed more challenging than I’d expected. I managed to get this little fic where I wanted it though and figured I’d share it while I try to wrap up all the other stuff I’m working on. Hope you all enjoy :) XOXO - Ash

After a few months of living in the twenty-first century Bucky found he both loved and hated it in turns. When he’d been cleared as completely deprogrammed and sent home to the states he thought he couldn’t have been luckier. He was finally a free man, from both the government and the decades of brainwashing. Bucky was looking forward to living with Steve again in Brooklyn, the two of them on their own and free to do whatever it was super soldiers do in retirement when they’re not even thirty yet. The world was his oyster, he thought to himself as they signed the lease on a cute little condo right in the heart of their old neighborhood. 

The glamour of the twenty-first century faded quickly as Bucky tried to adjust to everyday life. Steve, who had been doing well on his own for four years, was eager to help Bucky acclimate to the new century. Unfortunately, Steve took to that as he did with all things; barreling in head first all at once. Bucky needed time to adapt, he couldn’t just throw himself at something and become good at it like Steve could. As much as he loved Steve, and god did he ever love that man, it was hard keeping up a brave face. Even harder, was that the love he’d felt for Steve back in the 30s hadn’t diminished one bit. 

When they were young being gay was a death sentence. Something so secretive that even back alley whispers could ruin a man’s life. Bucky had known he was gay since he knew what it was to want someone in that way. And like most things in Bucky’s life, it all came down to Steve freaking Rogers. The fine boned little blonde who never knew when to quit, his giant spirit housed in such a delicate frame. Bucky never acted on his feelings, never dared to, but some days he wished he’d had. It had been enough though, the time they’d had together in their tiny apartment over the Miller’s garage. He knew it wasn’t a crime to be gay anymore. He’d caught on to that pretty quickly, thank you HBO, but he still couldn’t bring himself to share that truth with Steve. Maybe someday. Bucky needed time to process and evaluate before proceeding, just like everything else in his life. 

One of the first things Bucky really minded was the food. Steve had warned him that everything tasted a little different nowadays but claimed he’d get used to it. Steve loved all the different types of takeout you could get in the city, willing to try anything and everything. Bucky found he couldn’t get past how fake everything tasted, like he could sense the lingering chemicals. Steve continued to insist they’d find something Bucky liked, even trying to ply him with bags of candy and boxes of mass produced cookies, trying to cater to his sweet tooth. Bucky gave up finally after a week where he’d spent ninety percent of the time hangry. He headed down to the farmers market and loaded up on all organic produce and heritage bred meats. He found an artisanal bakery that used simple organic ingredients too. Bucky took to making his own food from his farmers market shopping trips and was finally able to enjoy a meal. Steve, bless him, continued to try and find things Bucky would like but it never seemed to work out. Bucky felt guilty every time he’d have to pass something back to Steve with a “no thanks, pal” and the light of hope in Steve’s eyes dimmed. 

Steve was quite attached to his iPhone and thought for sure Bucky would love one too. He came home one afternoon with a sleek, shiny, little phone for Bucky, handing it to him like it was something priceless. “It does _everything_ , Buck. You’re gonna love it.” he insisted. Bucky did not love it. The tiny black device only served to piss Bucky off more than anything. He could never quite get the hang of navigating it and his fingers always felt too big when he was trying to type. He’d loved technology when he was younger but the phone was just a bridge too far, and one he was not ready to learn how to cross. “I’m a hundred goddamned years old, Steve. No, I don’t wanna learn how to tweet. I’ll leave that to the fucking birds.” he grumbled, throwing the phone down on the coffee table after yet another one of Steve’s well intentioned attempts at teaching Bucky how to use some annoying app. Steve let up after that, leaving Bucky to poke around on the phone only when he was willing. Bucky knew Steve was upset that his gift wasn’t well received, but he was too frustrated with himself and the whole situation to apologize. 

Socializing was even becoming unenjoyable for Bucky. He used to go out every weekend to the dance halls and, when they were flush, the bars or clubs. Bucky was always the life of the party with a dame or two hanging off his arm, while Steve had shied away, content in the shadows. The times had certainly changed. Steve was now the one urging Bucky to hang out with the team and go out to the movies, but Bucky couldn’t have had less interest. He didn’t want to hold Steve back, and he felt horribly guilty when Steve would give him that damned sympathetic smile and say “It’s okay, Buck. We can just stay in.” when he very clearly wanted to go out. Bucky just couldn’t seem to fit in. He didn’t get the jokes or share the same interests with anyone and it was exhausting trying to make it seem like he did. So he preferred to stay at home in their condo, reading books or watching documentaries on their ridiculously large TV. He did occasionally enjoy when Natasha would drop in. It was seldom, but sometimes the tiny redhead would drop in unexpectedly with some old fashioned, homemade, Russian dish tucked under her arm for him. They would sit in silence watching a documentary, not having to say a word. She would give him a gruff hug and then be on her way. It was perfect and Bucky enjoyed her drop ins more than he’d admit. 

Everything came to a head after Steve’s birthday party. It was a week from hell as far as Bucky was concerned. He’d wanted to get Steve new paints and canvases, the expensive ones he’d seen the blonde fawning over a few weeks prior. Buying the supplies involved either going out in public alone, not ideal, or internet shopping, even worse. He tried to get them online but gave up after an hour, wanting to smash the damned laptop. Forcing himself to go out in public when he was already in a foul mood served to be just as disastrous, but he made it somehow. Then there was the party. Steve deserved the biggest, grandest party a guy could ask for, as far as Bucky was concerned. He wanted the best for Steve, he just didn’t want to be part of it. Steve looked at Bucky like he’d kicked his puppy when Bucky had told him he didn’t think he would be attending. So Bucky had put on his brave face and joined in on the loud, obnoxious party on July 4th to celebrate. Every drunken laugh and cheer grated on his nerves but he was coping and was quick to smile and nod every time Steve would look over. The last straw was the damn fireworks. Bucky hadn’t even stopped to consider how he would be with the fireworks but he quickly learned he was very not okay. Steve was staring up at night sky like it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, completely enraptured by the show. Bucky was digging his nails into his palms so hard blood trickled slowly down to his wrist, his whole body shaking uncontrollably. In between blasts, he miraculously managed to excuse himself for a bathroom break, and locked himself in the bathroom where he could fall apart for a few minutes. Maybe the shrink Steve had drug him to was right about the whole PTSD thing. _Fuck_. 

Bucky was certain when he woke up the morning after Steve’s party that he was ruining the other man’s life. There was no sugar coating it anymore, Bucky was bringing Steve down by being with him. Bucky didn’t think he’d ever adapt to this new world and he was so damned tired of trying. He wished they’d just left him on the ice in Wakanda until they needed him for a mission or something. It had worked out for the past seventy years, it would probably be better knowing it was the good guys pulling the strings now. Sure, Steve would miss him at first but Bucky was convinced it was for the best in the long run. Who needed a socially inept, only slightly stable roommate who couldn’t do anything on their own? And Steve, self sacrificing saint that he was, would never complain about it. Which honestly just made it worse. Even when Bucky had his low spells and would spend days on end curled up in bed, unable to even function, Steve was there to support him however he could. It was just too much to throw on the man, no matter how hard Bucky was trying or how much he loved him. 

“I think I need to go back on the ice.” Bucky said one night over dinner. He was only half way through his roasted chicken and potatoes but he couldn’t wait another minute.

Steve choked on his pad thai. “What?!” he yelped once his coughing fit had stopped.

“I need to go back on the ice.” Bucky was firm in his decision, “I’m not meant for this world, Steve. You know it as well as I do. So let’s save everyone the headache and put me back under. If the team ever needs me you can just bring me back out to help.”

“I’m gonna be sick.” Steve jumped up from his spot on the sofa and started pacing, running his hands roughly through his thick blonde hair. “If we did that to you we would be no better than Hydra. Do you get that?”

Bucky sighed heavily, he should have known Steve wouldn’t get it. “It’s nothing like Hydra. The Avengers are the good guys. I won’t be brainwashed or tortured or anything. I’ll just take a long, chilly nap and you guys can bring me out when you need me.” 

“I need you!” Steve cried, exasperated. 

“Stevie,” Bucky’s tone softened, pleading, “I’m ruining your life, pal. I can’t, I _won’t_ , sit back and watch you give up this amazing life you could have if I wasn’t in it. I want you to be happy.” 

“That’s fucking rich.” Steve barked out a harsh laugh. His pacing stopped and he stood stock-still to stare a Bucky. He couldn’t hold it back anymore. “I just want **you** , Buck. How can you not see that? It’s only ever been you. Even when it was just you and me in that shitty little apartment in 1936, when we were so broke we couldn’t turn on the heat. I...” Steve’s voice broke with emotion and he shook his head. 

Bucky’s chest ached, terrified of what Steve was saying. It couldn’t be. “What are you tryin’ to say?”

Tears shone in Steve’s eyes. “I love you. I always have, and I guess I always will. I know you think you’re not adjusting to life now but you’ve only been here for six months. It took me a whole damn year to really get my bearings. I won’t give up on you. Not when I just got you back.” 

“How long?” Bucky cleared his rough voice, “How long have you felt that way?”

Steve shrugged, “Since forever, I guess. I’m sorry, I know you’re not-”

“I’m gay.” Bucky blurted out, cutting Steve off. “And I’ve loved you since the minute I could put a name to the feeling.” 

“Fuck.” Steve cursed, crossing the few feet to pull Bucky into his arms, “Fuck, we’re terrible at communicating.” He crashed his lips down on Bucky’s, frantic and desperate. 

It wasn’t a perfect first kiss but it was everything to Bucky. Steve’s warm palm rested on the back of Bucky’s neck, stabilizing him as he drowned in the other man. It was rough and heated and absolutely perfect. “I love you.” Bucky rasped out in between kisses, “I love so much.”

“Don’t leave. Please don’t leave me again.” Steve pleaded against Bucky’s lips, holding him closely, “We’ll figure it out, Buck. I promise. Please.” 

Bucky trembled, tears falling with giant sobs. He was so emotionally worn out and he clung to Steve like a lifeline. “Okay. We can try.” 

It took another six months and a few extra therapy sessions, but slowly Bucky began to adapt. It wasn’t easy, and it wasn’t quick, but that was okay. Change happened slow and gentle, like dawn rising up over the city rooftops bringing warmth and light to everything it touched. They found compromises and Steve did his best to be patient with Bucky, even though sometimes he practically vibrated out of his skin with the effort to slow down. They moved Bucky into Steve’s room and adopted a fluffy white cat they both doted on endlessly. Bucky eventually found common ground with Sam and they even made a weekend trip down to DC to visit him and do some sightseeing. After seventy years of being apart, and twenty years before that hiding their feelings, being able to be openly in love felt like the biggest blessing either man could have asked for. It wasn’t perfect by any means, but they were together and that was all that really mattered.


End file.
